Beach Day
by failedfracture
Summary: Post-Hogwarts, Epilogue Compliant. Draco is invited to the beach and though he's initially resistant, allows Ginny to play matchmaker. Dramione romance, rated M for content in chapter 2/2.


A/N: I've had this one done for months, just dusting it off and posting at last. There will be two chapters and the second is pure smut! Rated M for a reason.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

* * *

**DM**

I felt the familiar pull in my abdomen as we apparated from the Manor out to the shore. Scorpius immediately ran ahead toward the long glistening beach-side and the familiar sight of the Potters, who had heard the pop of apparition and were waving and calling us both over. I felt a strange sensation in my stomach, still not used to being friendly with them, or with _anyone_ for that matter. Friends were more work than they were worth in my experience. I had Scorpius, and he was all that mattered anymore really. I was here for him and him alone.

Ginny and Harry lounged under a giant red umbrella. Two figures loomed uncomfortably beside them - Ron Weasley and a brunette woman who was definitely _not_ his ex-wife Hermione Granger-Weasley. I tried not to think much about why I felt relieved to see him with another woman and instead allowed myself amused satisfaction as I detected her _many_ glamour charms. They were obvious, even from a distance. Was he dumb enough to think she was au naturel?

I counted seven children, or more aptly, _young adults_, including one red-headed, curly-haired female of which my son was particularly fond. Weasley sneered at Scorpius as he offered a quick and shamefully informal 'hi' to the 'older generation', and I felt a modicum of defensiveness because even if I deserve Weasley's scorn, _my son doesn't_. He has never done anything particularly bad to anyone and yet he has been paying for my mistakes since the day he was born.

Ron spared a sneer for me, surely understanding by now that I was destined to be his daughter's future father-in-law. Oh yes, one future day his lovely Rose would bear the Malfoy name, and then, the Malfoy heir. For that brief moment in time, the satisfaction of _pissing him off_ far outweighed the thought that my future grandchildren may have the red hair their family was cursed with. Ick.

"Oi, Draco!" Ginny smiled and waved me closer as I approached. She really was quite charming, and lovely in her sky blue sundress. Not sure what the fuck she saw in Potter. "Conjure a chair and join us."

I looked to Ginny's older brother and smirked. "So Weasley, is this your consolation prize?"

The brunette at his side looked taken aback, and I heard Ginny snort lightly from her chair.

"You're lucky there are kids present, Malfoy," Weasley replied.

I shrug like I don't give a fuck, because _I don't_. "I'd say they're old enough if you want to have a go at me."

He shook his head like he was above it. "Gotta go Gin. Harry." He doesn't seem particularly friendly with either of them. "Great company you two keep these days."

He and his female disapparated, and, feeling rather elated at having driven him off so quickly, I conjured the chair that Ginny suggested.

"Pity really. I hope they didn't leave on my account."

Harry stuck his feet in the sand and sat back with a huff. "You're a prick, Malfoy."

"Probably right." I had just insulted a woman and didn't even know her name. "But your wife thought it was funny," I winked at Gin, who hid a smile behind her freckled hand. Harry glared at her.

"Oh come on Harry. She's a tart," Ginny offered. "Ron can do better than that."

He _had_ done better than that, and he lost her. Such a _sad sad story_.

My goal had been to leave promptly, but I felt refreshed and rejuvenated suddenly. Provoking people always got my blood circulating.

"Help yourself, there's plenty to eat and drink." Ginny gestured to the basket in front of her which held food and beverages. She had chosen a decent oak-matured mead for my benefit. They were more the butterbeer type.

"The last time I drank with you two I felt like shite the next morning." A potion can't fix the feeling of sinking regret when you realize you shared too much with folks you once considered enemies. For some reason, they seemed to like me a bit more after that incident, and I really didn't want to think about why.

Nevertheless, I opened the bottle of mead and poured a glass.

"Now, kick off your shoes and put on some beach attire."

My throat seized up and I felt the mark on my arm like I'd gotten it yesterday. I wouldn't be wearing a tee like Potter or Weasley, or taking my shirt off like the younger generation. If I did, everyone would freeze in their tracks and stare at it. "I think I'll keep my robes on."

I looked out at the kids, now playing - scratch that - '_hanging out_', in the water as the waves crashed around them. Rose splashed Scorpius and he feigned annoyance, but being his father I knew for certain that he liked her attention. He dove into the water after her.

I couldn't pitch the feeling that I'd never really be normal.

I looked back in just enough time to see Harry and Ginny trading strange glances. Harry shaking his head at her.

"Draco stop being all broody and change your blasted clothes."

I gave her my most hateful and intimidating glare, but she didn't so much as flinch. So I softened my expression and looked to Potter. They were thinking about the mark on my arm just as clearly as I was, and I'd really prefer that they didn't.

"You hear that, Potter? Your wife wants to see me in my skivvies." I feel a hard blow to my shoulder and wince. She packs a punch.

"Ginny leave the man alone. He's probably allergic to the sunlight."

"A right vampire. Is that it?"

"I assure you I'm not."

"Or just a beanpole."

"I'm not a-"

I groaned. They got me where they wanted me. I kicked off my shoes and removed my socks, feeling the warm gritty sand against the bottom of my feet. They were right of course. I had dressed inappropriately for the occasion, and since I pride myself on propriety, I transfigured my robe into a wet suit.

"Is that sufficient?"

"Much better. Now change it to another color. You wear too much black."

"I happen to _like_ black. Is there a reason you're so invested in my appearance?"

She responded with a shrug and a smile, and I knew instantly what she was up to. I felt an uncomfortable heat radiate from my chest outward, covering my face in what I suspected was an awkward shade of pink. I hated being pale sometimes.

"Stop trying to set us up you blasted woman. She _hates_ me."

"She doesn't _hate_ you. And you certainly don't hate her." She wagged her brows at me, earning an eye roll.

"No, I don't _hate_ her. I _tolerate_ her. For your benefit alone."

"Bollocks. You told me-"

"Whatever I told you while I was drunk is completely irrelevant. I lie compulsively when I'm intoxicated. I'll say anything to get a reaction and you know it."

"You're daft if you think we'll believe that," Potter intervened. He seemed amused. "You said it, and drunk or not, you can't take it back now."

"Fuck off, you two. I was talking complete rubbish that night." I ran a hand over my wet suit, _which would remain black_.

They smiled and exchanged looks, but respectfully dropped the conversation.

When she arrived, I was hovering ten feet above the ocean on my broomstick, swatting a quaffle with Potter. The call of competition, chance to best him at something, was still too great to resist. I dove left and smashed the ball back to him, but I was momentarily blinded by the sunlight reflecting off the water and didn't see the ball coming back my way until it was almost too late. With a seeker's reflexes, I swooped right and saved the ball with a maneuver I was almost impressed with.

Potter and I had a quiet camaraderie that I was just learning to appreciate.

After a few more rounds and no outs (because we were both quite good at this), Potter caught the ball instead of hitting it back to me and flew in close so we could hear each other.

"Food?"

He nodded his head toward the sand, toward Hermione, who was sitting on a blanket beside Ginny and watching us. She was wearing a short pink flowy number and her curls were bouncing wildly in the wind. I could feel her eyes on me and it gave me a warm tingle, though I tried not to think on it much. I really didn't deserve a woman like her after all I had done. I was an ex-death eater and she was the _Minister for Magic._

So I nodded and we made our way back to the others. Potter dropped the quaffle to Albus, and he indifferently threw it to Scorpius. My son looked up and met my eyes for a moment as I flew above him, and the small smile he gave me was enough for me to know he was glad that I was still here. I was glad for it too.

* * *

**HG**

"I didn't know Malfoy would be joining us," I remarked as I threw down a beach blanket, far from the empty chair that I assumed belonged to _him_.

"He's not so bad Hermione. Give him a chance."

_Not so bad_. I had deceived myself into believing that for a moment once. "I don't understand this strange friendship you two have with him."

"He's different," Ginny shrugged.

"Yes, he's far better at hiding his true colors."

"I thought so too. But I can tell you, he is different. I'd swear on it."

I narrowed my eyes, not buying it. "How are you so certain?"

Ginny watched her husband flying with the man they had all once despised, looking very much like she had something to say.

"I'll tell you this. Veritaserum was involved."

My eyes widened and I leaned in. "You slipped him veritaserum!"

"Shh! No one knows about it except me and Harry. And now you. We shared your suspicions that it was all an act...so we took drastic measures."

I shook my head in disbelief.

"Oh come on 'Mione. Albus has been spending so much time at the Manor, we really had to know if we ought to be concerned. Anyway, he was so hammered on fire whiskey, he thinks he just got drunk and said too much."

Their actions were understandable I supposed. Still unethical.

I looked out at the ocean, to the kids who were all growing up so fast, and I remembered us at that age. We had been about to embark on a terrifying adventure, and Malfoy... he had been a death eater at his son's age. And his son was a magnificent young man, talented and resourceful, with a kindness that I had never seen in his father. I supposed it wasn't so far fetched to think Draco would have been the same if he'd been raised under better circumstances. And yes, I knew that his experiences during the war had changed him. They had changed us all significantly.

My curiosity got the better of me. "Well? What did he say?"

"Lots of interesting things, most of which I won't be repeating. But...I know he's past all his old blood prejudices. Especially where you're concerned."

"He spoke of me?"

"Yes, a bit."

I shoved my toes in the sand and looked back at my good friend, afraid now that she knew something about me that I had never told her. I'd never told anyone, and I had been certain _he_ would never tell either.

"I want to know what he said."

Ginny looked me in the eyes like she knew _something_.

"You'll need to tell me first. What happened with you and Malfoy back at Hogwarts? What are you hiding?"

I bit my lip and looked out at him, flying magnificently over the waves.

"I don't know what he told you, but it's not what you're thinking. It wasn't, it was just-" I stopped abruptly. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. "It was over twenty years ago. It hardly matters now."

"Well it seemed like it mattered to him. And from the way you're stammering, I'm starting to think you two had some sort of torrid love affair."

"No! No, it wasn't like that." I was grasping desperately. I just wanted to know what he told them so I could fix this. But the look in her eye wasn't one of judgment and it made me think perhaps, after all these years and my divorce from Ron, I could rid myself of this secret.

"Fine. Something did happen once, that I haven't shared with anyone." I swallowed and it made a clicking sound in my throat. "I followed Malfoy to the Room of Requirement in sixth year. You know, to see if Harry was right and he was up to something. He caught me. We argued."

Ginny leaned forward, literally hanging on the edge of her seat. "And?"

"And then Filch was coming, so we went into the room together. And since the room thought we needed a place to hide, we ended up in a broom closet of sorts." I closed my eyes, unable to believe I was saying this aloud for the first time and not particularly wanting to witness Ginny's reaction. "And we fought some more, and he shoved me against the wall, and I thought for a moment that he was just _furious_ you know? But then he... well he _kissed_ me."

"Oh my god!" She gaped and grabbed me by the shoulder. So, clearly he hadn't told her this bit. "And did you kiss him back?"

And that was the real reason I hadn't told my friends about the encounter. If I had simply pushed him away...

"Yes," I felt like I was choking on the word. "I couldn't explain why but yes, I kissed him back."

"What was it like?" Ginny smiled at me wickedly.

"Ginny!" I folded my arms, perturbed. "It was shameful."

"Not sufficient."

"Okay, it was..." my heart hammered as I re-lived the experience, "_very_ good." She gestured for me to continue, and the words that followed were soft and breathy because they hurt to say. "He kissed me like he was _apologizing_, or maybe I just took what I wanted from it, but by the end I had forgiven him for every mean thing he had ever done. And then a few days later... he let the death eaters into the school. I felt incredibly foolish." Ginny seemed contemplative for a moment as she absorbed my words and then broke into a gleeful grin. Anger flooded my senses. "How can you be happy? I've been carrying around this awful secret for decades!?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But...it's not so awful really. Sure, the boys would have been angry at the time, but they would have gotten over it. I think you've been shaming yourself for nothing."

"I snogged a death eater Gin," I reminded her.

"Was it only snogging? Or did you two, you know-"

"I've only been with one man. I wouldn't lie about that." My forehead creased, and I felt like I was burning up. "What exactly did he say to you?"

"He said that he was sorry for being such a prick to us and that he would take it all back if he could."

"And?"

"_And_ he said you were _perfectly lovely_, and that he was over the moon when he found out you and my brother had split up. Said you could do better than Ron. He really doesn't like him at all." Ginny drew in a long breath, "And then he said he never really hated you the way he let on, and that _you knew as much_. That you had known he had conflicting feelings toward you at Hogwarts." She watched for my reaction, which I was sure to disguise. Then she sat back in her chair and nodded toward the ocean in a warning gesture.

They were flying back toward us.

I felt my stomach flip in a way it hadn't in decades. I had completely forgotten what butterflies felt like.

"He thinks _you_ hate _him_. You know that, right?"

I chewed on my bottom lip. No, I didn't hate him. I avoided him, I felt sorry for him, and I was hurt when I found out that he'd been a death eater. And I felt stupid for thinking of that kiss so many times over the years.

He hopped off his broom, looking right at me, and I wanted to turn away but I just couldn't do it. My gaze was locked on him and his tight black wet suit. Did he know what we were speaking of?

"Granger." He glanced down at my dress so fast I almost missed it, and then back up to my eyes. "It's nice to see you."

I was silent for a little too long before I finally willed myself to speak. "You too."

_You too? That's all you could muster up?_

Harry kissed my cheek quickly and made a beeline for the basket of food. "So what are you ladies chatting about?"

I looked off into the distance, watching Rose dive into the waves and back up. She seemed happy.

"Oh, girl stuff. Telling secrets," Ginny replied. My face turned scarlet, and I glanced up at Draco. He looked down at me with a brow raised and smiled a little half-smile that would have thrown me off balance had I been standing. I thought for certain he knew what secret she was referring to.

"Secrets? I didn't think we had any left," Harry said as he began removing items from the basket.

Draco sat down on the sand and Harry threw him an apple, which he caught one-handed without much effort.

"Women always have their secrets, Potter." He looked at Ginny pointedly and wrapped an arm around his knee. "Just make sure you're telling your own secrets and not gossiping about someone else's.."

"Draco Malfoy, I'm no gossip." Ginny bit back. "I tell relevant facts on a need to know basis."

He narrowed his eyes at her suspiciously. "Blasted woman. Always meddling. You're lucky I like you."

And just like that, the awkwardness was over and they fell into an easy conversation about their game, and quidditch and the children and how to properly mix a pumpkintini. It was odd to see Harry and Draco banter like old chums after all that had happened, and though I had seen them together a few times before, I finally felt like I understood their tentative friendship. Draco had a good sense of humor, and Harry laughed more often when he was around. Like an older version of their sons.

I chimed in occasionally, but remained mostly quiet, keeping my attention on the kids and _off_ of Draco Malfoy and that wet suit, which fit snugly over pretty much every body part. He was very fit. Undeniably handsome.

I tried not to remember that strange feeling I'd had all those years ago when my arms were wrapped around his shoulders, his lips traveling down my neck.

Oh god it felt so real all of a sudden, like I was within that old memory, doing something I shouldn't, but that I wanted none the less.

When Ginny caught me looking at him she wore a smug grin that left me feeling annoyed.

The kids came round for food and pitched the tents, reminding me why we were here and what we were commemorating. It had been twenty-two years since the final battle at Hogwarts.

Rose, my wonderful girl, sat beside me during dinner and told me all about Albus and Scorpius, and their foolhardy attempt to capture a boulder fish with their bare hands. And then she did the oddest thing and nodded to "Mister Malfoy" like she wanted to make sure he wasn't bothering me. I thought it was sweet and protective, and it reminded me of all the horrible things Ron had said to her over the years about the Malfoy clan. I hadn't stopped him and perhaps I should have because she looked at Draco with something akin to disdain. I gave her a pointed look and whispered in her ear, "He's not the monster everyone says he is."

I'd told her long ago not to read all the books about the war, that they were all filled with half-truths and exaggerations, but I honestly doubt she listened. Maybe I should have told her all the facts when she started at Hogwarts, but some memories were just awful to speak of and I didn't really want to share them with my children.

"I mean it," I warned her. "Everyone deserves a chance."

* * *

**DM**

Ginny was looking at me like she knew something very interesting, and I had a solid gut feeling she did. I had divulged a truth that I shouldn't have and that little witch had shared it, and then Granger had shared and now she could barely even look at me. When she did she seemed almost embarrassed. I wasn't sure if I should leave her to it and avoid her completely, or try to talk and perhaps ease the tension. She didn't seem particularly interested in speaking, even with Ginny and Harry.

I couldn't blame her. This was clearly all a plot of some sort, meant to lure us together and see how we would act. It had backfired tremendously and we would all do well to go our separate directions.

I walked to the edge of the water. The sand enveloped my bare feet as the wave rushed backward, curling in on itself.

I was starting to feel that strange parental anxiety that followed me around so often, nipping at my heels. Scorpius and Albus have been underwater for a long time, and though they both knew all sorts of underwater charms, I was still uncomfortable.

"They're hunting for boulder fish."

Rose came up beside me, and her voice reminded me of her mother's when she was younger. I had once thought it was a grating sound, _petulant know it all_, but from this girl my son so cared for I heard it from a new perspective.

"Or rather, they're pretending to hunt for horcruxes."

She's said it to shock me, but it didn't. I was well aware that my son now idolized Potter. Better than idolizing death eaters, as I had at his age.

Then she asked, "Does it bother you?"

"No. Should it?" I glanced at her. She studied me silently.

"Well you were on the other side, weren't you?"

I took a deep breath and blew it out. She was bold like her mother. "Sort of. I didn't want to be after I understood."

"Do you still have the mark on your arm?"

I shifted. _For fuck's sake_. "Yes."

"Can I see it?"

_Now_ I was shocked.

"No," I said slowly. "I keep it covered for a reason. And that's a rather bold request."

"Well you're the only death eater I've ever known. I'm curious."

"Count yourself lucky. I'm nicer than the rest of the lot."

"Did you want it?"

Good god, I felt like I was being tested.

"I thought I did. My parents had them. My friends wanted them. But no, I was a scared child, Rose."

She nodded.

"So Voldemort lived in your house. What was it like? Did you take meals together?"

I laughed. "No, I can honestly say I never saw him eat." I stood silently for a moment, his snakelike face still so clear in my mind, even after all these years. "He wasn't quite human. It was terrifying having him in my home. It felt like no place was safe."

"I thought you were safe because you had the mark?"

"You thought wrong then. He didn't treat his followers well at all. He controlled us by fear."

"That's not a very effective way to win loyalty."

"No, it isn't. And it's one of many reasons that he lost the final battle."

"Because your mother betrayed him."

I nodded silently.

"That was very brave of her."

I smiled. Maybe Rose could be my new favorite Weasley.

* * *

**HG**

I poked my head out of the tent and felt a nervous twitch when I saw my daughter talking to Draco. She was so bold and reckless, even more than I was at that age. I could only imagine what they would have to talk about. He drew his wand and pointed it at the ocean, parting the waves as she walked forward to grab a seashell. It seemed they were _getting along_.

I approached slowly, not wanting to intrude but also desperately curious.

"Mother, did you know Draco's an alchemist?"

"Yes. A gifted one as I've gathered."

"Well I'm no Flamel."

"Flamel was nearly one-hundred years old when he created the philosophers stone. You have time," Rose reminded him.

"I suppose so."

Rose walked back into the tent, leaving me alone with the man I'd spent the day trying _not_ to be alone with. So much for being over-protective.

"Your daughter is delightful," he said after a pause.

"Thank you," I replied, standing beside him with my feet touching the edge of the water. It was cold as ice, but it felt invigorating. It made me feel grounded, which I needed in this situation. "I was afraid she was bombarding you with inappropriate questions."

"Oh, she was," he said with a smirk. I raised a brow. "But I don't mind it. She asked me if I had taken meals with Voldemort."

I covered my mouth in horror, but then curiosity struck. "Well did you?"

"_No_." He replied gruffly. "He didn't take meals as far as I know. But, he did take a shower with my mother's favorite pink bath towel once. She promptly incinerated it."

I held back laughter unsuccessfully. It was hard to imagine living with such a man. Such a creature. What a horrifying experience. "I'm sure you have many interesting tales to tell."

"Most I've never shared. It seems inappropriate to find humor in such things, but...looking back there was a certain absurdity to the situation."

"I imagine so. As frightening as he might have been, he was also rather... absurd."

His smile widened.

"You seem to have won Rose's favor," I added.

"That's good. If my son has his way she'll be my future daughter-in-law."

"Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Would that bother you?"

"No, not really. I think she'd make a fine Malfoy if he were to get so lucky."

I had to laugh at the thought. "My daughter a Malfoy. Would you have believed such insanity was even possible two decades ago?"

"Unlikely. But then again, I've always rather liked the idea of improbable love."

Improbable love. The butterflies returned with a sudden and unexpected force. "Yes, so have I."

I sat down in the sand, just far enough back to be safe from the water, and he did the same.

After a few seconds of silence, he said, "So I heard the ICW passed your anti-corruption law."

"Yes, it was a nice victory. I worked many years for it." I traced a pattern in the sand absentmindedly. "I honestly thought they would vote it down."

"It was a well-written piece of legislation. They'd have been fools not to pass it."

"Did you actually read it?"

"All 274 pages."

My eyes went wide with disbelief. "Why would you read such a thing? I don't know a single person who didn't fall asleep mid-way."

"Oh I fell asleep," he laughed. "But that's irrelevant. It was worth reading. Very persuasive, and you closed all the loopholes. You're good at what you do."

"Thanks. Most people don't really understand what I do. I suppose I'm not surprised you get it better than most. Your family has been involved in politics for generations, haven't they?"

"Yes... involved in one way or another. You know the story."

"I do. And seems you've broken tradition. You're the first Malfoy in a century who hasn't had a Minister halfway in his pocket." I knew it for a fact, having researched it extensively for the new anti-corruption proposals.

"If I cared to meddle in politics, and I _don't_, I can't see _you_ in _anyone's_ pocket, no matter how rich they are. And I'm fairly certain you don't have any dirty secrets to exploit."

"No, no my life is an open book. Almost."

"Almost," he repeated the keyword with a smile, reminding me that there was a secret hanging in the air between us. One that only we knew until today.

"And you are quite the opposite," I said softly. "A true man of mystery."

"I like my privacy. But I don't have anything to hide."

"Is that right?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Then tell me all about yourself."

He ran a hand over his jaw. I'd seen him stubbly a few times and it had been a surprisingly good look for him. Today he was clean-shaven.

"You already know the interesting bits. What more is there to tell really?" He said with a shrug. I didn't reply, instead waiting for him to fill the empty space. After a few seconds, he continued, "Well, I pass my days reading, writing, practicing, parenting...and when I get bored with the monotony, I travel."

"Where do you travel?"

"Anywhere. Beijing last month and Kenya before that. Just exploring."

"Do you take Scorpius along with you?"

"Yes, when he's out of school. But usually I'm... alone." He smiled almost sheepishly then, and I wondered if he thought that I had led him into that confession to ensure he didn't have a travel companion.

I had.

"Do you travel much?" He asked me then.

"On ministry business. I haven't vacationed much since I accepted this position. But I have a long list of places I'd like to go."

"Carpe diem, Granger. Life is short."

"Yes, I'll get to it someday."

We spoke for a long while about the traveling we had done, and places we still wanted to go. He had been to every continent and spoke five languages. I was impressed.

He reluctantly admitted to throwing money at a few noble causes after visiting an impoverished muggle village with a dirty water supply, and I replied, shocked to my core, "I didn't peg you as a philanthropist."

"Ha. I wouldn't go that far, but I do have a heart. An itty bitty black one... and a lot of money last I checked," he smiled and took a breath before continuing, "and after years of trying to save Astoria I felt a bit...powerless. I needed to do something. Ease my conscience a bit." He cleared his throat. "See, purely selfish reasons."

"Don't discredit yourself. They don't care why you helped them, only that you did it." I sighed, thinking on all I had seen. "And your conscience seems fairly intact these days."

"Mm-hmm. Well I've spent enough years toiling in regret, you know. Feeling like a fuckup for all my poor choices." It was raw and honest and it stirred emotions I hadn't been prepared for. "I make it a point not to do anything that would send me back down that rabbit hole. I want to be a good father. A good person, if I can."

I raised my brows questioningly. "You sound uncertain."

"Honestly? I don't think objectively good people have to work quite this hard for it."

A lump formed in my throat. "The right thing is usually the most difficult thing. And...I think the goodness is in the act itself, not the first impulse... or even the motive behind it."

He leaned back and met my eyes. "That coming from an altruistic soul like you?"

"Call me a skeptic, but I don't think true altruism really exists." I looked out at the horizon and it reconfirmed that there was always more than met the eye. "I've learned a lot about human nature, being in politics. People do good things with good intentions all the time. But is it good purely for the sake of good?" I clicked my tongue. "Not usually."

"Some people just love to make themselves _look_ good, don't they? They shape and mold their reputations so carefully they start to think that's who they are. And then they act in accordance with what 'a person like them' would do. I've seen again and again, my whole life. It's depressing to think about how fucked up the world is."

He laid down on the sand, with his knees up.

"Yes, it is..."

"But you're pretty authentic," he said. "For a politician, you're a pretty fucking decent person."

I smiled and looked down at him, trying to remain focused on his face and not the rest of him. "I like to think so sometimes, but I'm not the exception. Going back to human nature, a lot of it is simply conditioning." I fidgeted, having nearly relapsed into my old know-it-all tone of voice. "You know when we do something kind or generous our brains release feel-good hormones..."

"Yes, nothing like a nice rush of serotonin... dopamine..." he replied. My smile widened, impressed he understood muggle biology.

"Yes, I do love that rush."

I decided then to lay down beside him and look upward at the sky. It was beautiful, with sunlit clouds moving fast enough across the expanse of blue that I could see their white fog separating and reshaping itself.

"Mmm, is that what drives you then? Feeling good?" He looked at me with an intentionally flirtatious grin. I felt my face flush as I smiled back, and not with embarrassment. It was strange, lying beside him and looking at one another. Breathtaking.

"Doesn't it drive us all a bit?" I replied as I smoothed down my dress and tucked it under me, not wanting it to blow wild in the wind. I felt him watching my movements and wondered what he might be thinking.

"It seems we were both cursed with terribly logical minds," he observed, looking back at the sky overhead. "I've always thought it was interesting - the way the brain and the mind work together. There are so many automatic processes that we have very little control over... one stray thought can create _utter chaos_. We think something could harm us or provide us with pleasure and the response is...fast." He stared upward with a hand at the middle of his chest, and I felt the butterflies stirring again. I must have been blushing because my cheeks felt hot.

"Instantaneous. Like the fight or flight response. Or," I swallowed my hesitance, "those pesky butterflies."

After a loaded silence, he replied, "It's funny you should mention that...I forgot what they felt like until very recently." The admission left me breathless, heart suddenly picking up its pace.

"So did I," I said quietly, uncertain if he heard me over the sound of the crashing waves. I glanced at him, and the way he looked back at me, I knew he had. I felt a strong twinge behind my navel at the thought that we might both be feeling the same thing.

"Well I was planning to take my leave soon," he said in a low voice, "but I think I might stay a while longer."

I gulped. "Please do. I'd rather not be the third wheel all night."

_Did I just say _all night_? Get your foot out of your mouth!_

He looked skyward and thank god for it because I felt a little like I was having a heart attack.

"Are you camping out then?" He asked.

_Yes. Yes. _"Yes." My voice cracked a little. _Pull it together Hermione. "_It's a tradition I'd rather not give up. So much has changed, but this... it still feels important. You know the story though, don't you?"

"Yes... I know what you're commemorating, and why you sleep in tents. And I'm sure you can see why it doesn't make much sense for me to be here."

"Hogwash," I replied quickly. _Too_ quickly. "It was a victory for all of us, wasn't it?"

"Yes...It was."

I wanted him to stay. It was a foolish thing to want it so badly; to be this bloody obvious about it. I didn't care. "Then it's decided. Stay."

* * *

**DM**

She made it abundantly clear she wanted me to stay. And then, just in case I hadn't gotten the message the first time, she said it again.

My heart was thumping so hard I was sure she could hear it. Why the fuck was I acting like a fourth year, with sweaty palms and a half-hard cock, waiting for _her_ to make a move on _me_? I hadn't been with a woman since Astoria, but it wasn't _that_ long ago, and I'd been skilled with women once, hadn't I?

Overcoming my sudden anxiety, I put my hand down between us on the sand and laced my fingers between hers. Perhaps it was fast, but she was sending all the signals. I had never been a nervous ninny with women and I wasn't going to start now. After all, I had thrown her up against a wall and snogged her back in sixth year, perfectly confident that she wouldn't push me away.

I was right, she hadn't.

And she didn't now, though she did seem to lose her train of thought and devolve into silence as we both acclimated to the warmth of each other's sandy fingers sliding against one another.

Since when was holding hands this _sexy_? Fuck. Had I completely missed that in my youth, having been too distracted with other parts of the female anatomy? Apparently so, because this was immensely more enjoyable than I recalled.

I wanted to lean over and kiss her right there on the sand, but there were Potters and Weasleys out on the beach, not to mention my son, and though they couldn't see the clasped hands that were tucked between us, they'd definitely notice a snog.

_Fuck I want her_.

After a long and heady silence, we finally resumed normal conversation. We spoke of everything as we watched the sunset; the meaningful, the meaningless. We had a great deal yet in common and I wasn't surprised, we had been passing one another in the same sections of the bookstore for years, and the library before it.

The sky turned from blue to shades of pink and violet, clouds rolling in and then scattering as we looked upon them side by side. It felt surreal being in this position, on a sandy beach and beside this woman whose company I had craved for so long. I never wanted it to end, but it was only a matter of time.

When Potter finally called to us, just after the sun dipped below the horizon, I felt the sting of disappointment.

It was quickly replaced with anticipation, as it occurred to me that we might be alone once more after everyone retired.

* * *

A/N: I love writing awkward conversations. Hope I pulled it off. :) Next chapter should be posted in a few days. It's written and just cleaning it up a bit (not the smut, just the grammar...hehe)


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